The Terrible Vampire Sword
'''NCC Medical Ward ''Like its previous incarnation, this medical ward was designed with the medic in mind, with all the modern advances to make the dirty work of repairs a world easier. It is well lit, the blue and violet metal of the walls and decor is a shade paler here, and the ubiquitous filigree is missing, all to assist in ease of cleaning. Still, the place veritably sparkles. In the furniture, there is a subtle motif of blades and sharp edges, as if to evoke the scalpel of a surgeon, although it is all quite safe. Around two dozen beds, more comfortable than their sharp looks would suggest, fill the medical ward, laid out in a tidy grid, and more can be flipped out of the walls should emergency demand it. A set of tracks on the ceiling mirror the grid of beds, allowing advanced scanning equipment and tolls to be swiveled around to the various beds. Computer terminals and cabinets are molded right into the walls at intervals, and while there are the normal medical security cameras, it appears as if someone has set some of the cameras specifically to watch the cabinets. Blueshift wanders into the medbay like a huge jerk, carrying something large and pointy over his shoulder, draped in a cloth. "MIXMASTER MY GOOD MAN!" he shouts out. "You are our foremost weapons expert are you not, since you turn into some sort of truck with a giant missile launcher or whatever that thing is!" Scrapper is sitting off in the corner, working on carving some sandstone blocks. Right now, he's carving a picture of Fortress Maximus with no head and assorted Decepticons laughing at him. Luckily for Scrapper, Blueshift is bothering Mixmaster, not him, so Scrapper keeps his head down and prays that it continues that way. Mixmaster is here in the repair bay, where he seems to be occupied with decontaminating himself. He grumbles something about mis-labeled chemicals, until Blueshift brazenly interrupts. He sighs, and rolls his beady little eyes. "I am our foremost CHEMIST, Blueshift, and unless you want to be melted down into your constituent metals, this had better be /important/." Harrow is working on things. She's standing near a wall console with her schematics scattered about. The ones detailed cardboard are all scribbled out, and she's found that converting a seeker into a giant lead zeppelin has proven to be tricky. Like Scrapper, she keeps her head down and hopes to be ignored as well, upon hearing Blueshift's shrill, British-accented voice. "Yes Mixmaster, CHEMIST or whatever you say. You Scrapper, you too Harrow, gaze upon my mighty shaft!" With this, Blueshift whips away the cloth to reveal a large, sleek black sword. "I found this sword in the DISTANT PAST when I was exiled there! I believe it to be a VAMPIRE sword, but need your genius to confirm this!" "Just what makes you think it is a 'vampire sword'?" Mixmaster replies in an exhausted tone. "Does it sneak up on you in the middle of the night and bite your neck?" "I shall demonstrate!" replies Blueshift. He snaps his fingers. "Harrow, come here!" Scrapper is probably just messing with Harrow when he gives her insane missions, such as constructing a lead zeppelin. Probably. It's hard to say. He's somewhat impressed that she does them anyway, without complaint. That's either dedication, loyalty, or a certain kind of mad science crazy. Grudgingly, he looks up at Blueshift's shaft. Scrapper asks, "Does it glitter in the sunlight and stalk you from your window, playing emo music?" Harrow really doesn't want to gaze upon any mighty shaft, but her curiousity gets the better of her, and she turns a little. And Blueshift screams at her. "No thank you," she deadpans, and turns back to her work. Blueshift points at his sword. "Harrow, I order you to impale yourself on my mighty shaft so that Mixmaster may watch!" Mixmaster is not looking forward to more of Blueshift's antics, but it seems there is little to be done about it except humour him until he is satisfied and leaves. "Where exactly did you get it, Blueshift? Harrow, humour him. We'll repair you afterwards." Harrow briefly checks the roster. Somehow Blueshift had climbed the ranks again. Dammit! She opens her mouth to threaten to evict him, but Mixmaster orders her. Glaring, she stalks over and eyes the sword, unimpressed. Scrapper supposes that he could countermand that order, since it is silly to let his troops get injured to humour a spaceship, but if Mixmaster thinks it is a good idea... well, it's probably still a bad idea, but Scrapper goes along with it, anyway. He assures, "We keep plenty of Seeker parts in stock." Blueshift waves the sword in front of him. "Go on Harrow, stab yourself with the vampire sword. I don't want to be the one to stab you, then Scrapper will be allowed to have me stored in the waste disposal unit" "YES! Stab yourself for the progress of SCIENCE!" Mixmaster shouts, although he would probably be far less enthusiastic if /he/ were the one being forced into stabbing themself. "Then I shall run a scan on you to see the exact effects it will have on your systems." Harrow looks pitifully back to Scrapper, then decides that she should totally stab Blueshift instead. She whips out her blade and makes to stab him in the neck! But she doesn't have high hopes that it'll land, Blueshift's a slippery bugger. She just wants to give him trouble. Combat: Harrow sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Harrow misses Blueshift with her Vibro-Scalpel attack! -3 Scrapper adds, "If it turns you into some form of undead, I am a qualified necromechanic," no, really, "but if you start wearing black, talking like Dreadwind, and drinking girly Sweep drinks, I may have to resort to euthanasia." He seems okay with Harrow attempting to stab Blueshift, but he suggests, "Should have gone a bit up and over to the left. Blueshift dodges to the side and tries to plunge his magic sword into Harrow's neck instead. "OOPS SLIPPED!" he exclaims out loud Combat: Blueshift misses Harrow with his Stabby (Punch) attack! Scrapper looks a bit peeved. He gets up from where he was sitting, tries to grab the sword, and attempts to slice it into Blueshift, grumbling, "Why is it none of you so-called warriors have any idea how to make war?" Combat: Scrapper sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Scrapper strikes Blueshift with his Sword attack! -5 Combat: You took 5 damage. Scrapper adds, "And that's how it's done. Mixmaster, you got the scanner readings?" "Argh!" shouts Blueshift as he is stabbed with his own sword. "This sword is attacking me!" The sword is indeed some sort of vampire sword, as Blueshift's wound bleeds for longer than it should do, and the sword steals some of the energy to power itself in an EFFICIENT manner Harrow gets quite humbled by Scrapper and shuffles away, narrowing her optics at Blueshift. While an army of undead Decepticons sounds like a godo idea at first, it would probably be unimpressive in practice. All that moaning and dragging thier feet. "Good of you to volunteer to be stabbed, Blueshift! Now you will know EXACTLY how your opponents will feel when they are stabbed, makes PERFECT SENSE!" Mixmaster exclaims. He scans Blueshift's perforation, which in addition ot the physical damage, seems to have severed some Energon feed lines as well. "How do you FEEL, Blueshift? Cold and clammy? Undying thirst?" Blueshift starts to hyperventalate, which is impressive for a robot. "Nooo Mixmaster, I feel like I am becoming a vampire, I want to paint myself glittery and sit outside Harrow's window reading poetry! Kill me before it is too late!" Scrapper peers at the wound and observes, "Huh, looks like it applies an anti-coagulant compound to prevent fuel lines from auto-resealing. Interesting." He lets go of the blade, letting it stay lodged in Blueshift. After a moment of thought, he also notes, "The blade feel pretty light. Swishy. Wouldn't be tiring to use in a long battle. Now, Harrow - thoughts?" This is a quiz, and it will be graded. Vendetta walks into the medical ward carefully as Blueshift's screams of 'This sword is attacking me' were warning enough that something probably weird was going. Maybe now is not the best of time to fix the superficial injuries. With his thick French accent he says "errrr Hello there...If zhis is a bad time I can always come back later you know." Harrow edges back towards her console until she's called upon. "Um...!" She looks at the sword, frowning. "The only vampiric property it seems to have is feeding off of the opponent." She looks over to Blueshift, "Quit being a protoform, you're not going to read poetry. Can you even read?" Mixmaster makes some notes on a datapad. "Hmm. Severs fuel lines, check. Unnaturally light, check. Makes Blueshift into a dandy, check. Hmm, interesting question, CAN Blueshift read? Maybe posessing the sword has drained him of his, er, 'intellect'." Scrapper explains to Vendetta, rather enthusiastically, "We're doing SCIENCE! Come on it. We'll get you fixed right up." His shovel is raised proudly on his back. Given that Blueshift is showing signs of becoming an emo, an incurable condition, Scrapper draws his own sword, which is not a vampire, and he keeps it hidden behind his back, just in case he needs it to do some staking. Scrapper nods along at Harrow's analysis. "I AM LEARNING DAMN YOU!" Blueshift shouts to Harrow! He then plucks the sword from himself with a scowl. "Scrapper, Harrow used to be humble and meek, I LIKED her then. Put her into aerospace for a temporary transfer, I will CRUSH the spirit from her!" Harrow looks quite upset and stomps a foot. "No! I can't be in the same division as you! Scrapper, please pay him no mind..." Scrapper shakes his head and says firmly, "No can do, Blueshift. Harrow asked to be in Engineering. Said she wanted to work for Hook. I have no idea WHY anyone would WANT to work for Hook," seriously, "but I try to humour the crazy people." For example: he's doing that right now. Blueshift strokes his chin. One day he will have a beard there. "Well Scrapper, if there is anything I can do to change your mind, WINK" he replies. He actually says 'wink' loudly. Harrow nods to Mixmaster, "I think the sword is draining is intelligence. Perhaps he's not fit to have it." Mixmaster sighs deeply, and covers his face with one hand. "Unfortunatly, no, he is exibiting his /normal/ levle of intelligence." Harrow says, "...Are you sure?" Scrapper hmms and shakes his head, waving a hand, and he opines, "Perhaps I should paint Harrow green and purple and turn her into a surveying plane to make the point clear!" If in doubt, give people rebuilds and paint jobs that they don't want. Blueshift snaps his fingers. "Excellent suggestion Scrapper, make it so!" Harrow sputters and flails, "Hey, you have no say in that! I don't want to be green and purple... Are we through here?" she huffs, standing akimbo. Vendetta blinks and just stares at Scrapper for a few seconds then at Blueshift and back at Scrapper. "Science...yeah I 'kinda' figured. By zhe way..." Vendetta straightens and tosses a rather nonchalent but adequate salute at Blueshift "Bonjour monsieur." before heading over to a chair for someone or gumby to take a look at him. The injuries are obvious from paintjob but superficial. It's all a matter of staying in optimal shape. "Don't salute him!" Harrow shouts. Blueshift folds his arms and just says 'yesssss' "I would reccomend strenuous and potentially fatal FIELD TRIALS, Blueshift." Mixmaster adds. "Track down some heavily armed Autobots and debilitate them with your bleeding sword." "Hmmm" Blueshift mutters. "Like, Bumblebee?" Scrapper once rebuilt Fusillade into a white Seeker when he was annoyed with her. He also once rebuilt Fusillade into mini-zombie Jetfire, but that was just weird. Humming, he wanders off to get the green and purple paint. Perhaps someone should distract him with repairing Vendetta before he does anything too drastic. Luckily, Vendetta himelf does just that, and Scrapper sets down the green and purple paint and goes for the spare Seeker parts instead. "Umm, no, Bumblebee is more of an 'advanced' target. Too sneaky, you see." Mixmaster muses. "You should go get the jump on some Wreckers, they're all bloody morons and so will be easy pickings for your new SUPER WEAPON." Harrow leaves Blueshift to the unfortunate Mixmaster and heads back to her schematics, passing Vendetta. She pauses. "You're in here for /scrapes/? You waste our time! A drain on our resources!" But she does little more than gripe about it, and is sure to hijack the green and purple paint before returning to her console. Vendetta shrugs at Harrow "Just a little touch up and diagnostic to make sure everything is in order. I do not like to function at less than my peak capacity. Its's all a matter of serving zhe empire to zhe best of my abilities." He ponders a verbal jab but stops himself at the last minute as right now is not the time but he definately files it forlater use. Blueshift cracks his knuckles. "The Wreckers are on my 'to kill' list, Mixmaster. I do not see you owning a 'to kill list' Mixmaster says, "I have a very big list, with one very big name on it." Blueshift narrows his optics. "And what is this big name? Scrapper does not notice Harrow hijacking the green and purple paint, because he has his head down in the parts bin, and he muses, "Eh, maybe he's one of those planes where if they get rained on, they aren't sneaky anymore." Scrapper repairs him anyway. Mixmaster glares at Blueshift, since this should be a rather obvious answer. "Omega Supreme, you moron!" Blueshift strokes his chin, muttering the name back to himself. "Omega Supreme You Moron eh..." Vendetta does not complain during the repair procedure as it is beneath a warrior to do so. Got an image to maintain and all that. "Thank you Scrapper." The seeker grabs his rapier and clips it back to his waist patting it affectionately. Scrapper shrugs and demurs, "Any time." Then, he wanders back to the corner to work on those sandstone carvings.